The Stone over MY Head

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Gun Powder: The Resto with a view, the Food ok.

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When do you last remember eating out in a restaurant looking over a green lake and surrounded by forests, from the third floor of a building? Well, third floor of the building may not sound very sensational, but the hill stationesque surroundings that the restaurant provides, especially during the cold, murky times of winter rain sure needs accolades for its sheer locale. Hauz Khas village is known to all who live in Delhi or have come to Delhi with a vengeance to tour it. From the broad expanse of the outer ring road, there leads a road that keeps narrowing as it enters into the deeply vegetated plains of Hauz Khas. Then starts a long and winding road that leads into a den of boutiques selling dresses for women at a rate which can only be afforded by those who earn in dollars and euros. Where is Gun Powder in all this? It is somewhere, and it still does not show itself even as you reach the end of the treacherous lane (provided you are taking the right one). I remember that at some po...
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I am not an aficionado of Italian cuisine. As a matter of fact, after eating out at The Big Chill Café at Khan Market, I doubt whether prior to this I had any knowledge of Italian food at all. The pastas and the pizzas have invaded into the Indian palate since time eternity, but not without that local hint. The main ingredient of Italian food, the cheese, used here has always been processed cheddar. Even mainstream pizza joints which were offshoots of their Western counterparts do not serve stringy mozzarella cheese. In fact, real Italian cheese are very rare in India, except for in big departmental stores of big malls. I remember eating pasta at home made using spicy tomato ketchup and processed cheddar cheese. Sometimes, if lucky, I would find some Italian herbs such as oregano and parsley to add that European touch to the dish. The pizza experience was not any better. Making a pizza at home is ten times more difficult than pasta, first because you need an oven to bake it. T...
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Free Food

A fortnight ago, Cambridge experienced an evening of heavy rain, lightning and thunder. When I shared this with friends not from Cambridge, they heard me out and tried to be nice. It was clear that they didn’t believe that it could have occurred - a five hour long thunderstorm in a region more famous for being one of the drier ones in the country? The BBC failed to predict it, and if the Gods were the BBC the clouds were them playing a match of rugby. Ordinarily, on a dry day in a desert this would have been a blessing. It was like a perfect murder, no one believed it because there was no evidence. The weather forecasters said, “Clear sky,” and the minor local mishaps did not reach the press afterwards. I became the victim of a twisted celestial game of hide and seek, like a true detective solving a crime, he knows what occurred but does not have proof to show because the villain was really good at covering his tracks. In retrospect, my life has turned into a game of cat and ...
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